At 7:12 a.m. on the morning of February 21, 1916, a shot from a German Krupp 38-centimeter long-barreled gun—one of over 1,200 such weapons set to bombard French forces along a 20-kilometer front stretching across the Meuse River—strikes a cathedral in Verdun, France, beginning the Battle of Verdun, which would stretch on for 10 months and become the longest conflict of World War I.

By the beginning of 1916, the war in France, from the Swiss border to the English Channel, had settled into the long slog of trench warfare. Despite the hard conditions in the trenches, Erich von Falkenhayn, chief of staff of the German army, believed that the key to winning the war lay not in confronting Russia in the east but in defeating the French in a major battle on the Western Front. In December 1915, Falkenhayn convinced the kaiser, over the objections of other military leaders such as Paul von Hindenburg, that in combination with unrestricted submarine warfare at sea, a major French loss in battle would push the British—whom Falkenhayn saw as the most potent of the Allies—out of the war.

The chosen mark of Falkenhayn’s offensive was the fortress city of Verdun, on the Meuse River in France. The city was selected because in addition to its symbolic importance—it was the last stronghold to fall in 1870 during the Franco-Prussian War—it was possible to attack the fortress city from three sides, which made it a good strategic target.

Ignoring intelligence that warned of a possible German attack in the region, French command had begun in 1915 to strip its forces at Verdun of the heavy artillery essential to defensive warfare, choosing instead to focus on an offensive strategy masterminded by General Ferdinand Foch, the director of the army’s prestigious War College, and dubbed Plan XVII. Thus the German attack of February 21 caught the French relatively unprepared.

From the beginning, the Battle of Verdun resulted in heavy losses on both sides. Falkenhayn famously admitted that he did not aim to take the city quickly and decisively, but to “bleed the French white,” even if it meant an increased number of German casualties. Within four days of the start of the bombardment on the Meuse, the French forward divisions had suffered over 60 percent casualties; German losses were almost as heavy.

After a few quick German gains of territory, the battle settled into a stalemate, as casualties swiftly mounted on both sides. The newly promoted French commander in the region, Henri-Philippe Petain, was determined to inflict the maximum amount of damage on the German forces, famously pledging to his commander-in-chief, Joseph Joffre, that, “They shall not pass.”

By the latter half of 1917, German resources were stretched thinner by having to confront both a British-led offensive on the Somme River and Russia’s Brusilov Offensive on the Eastern Front. In July, the kaiser, frustrated by the state of things at Verdun, removed Falkenhayn and sent him to command the 9th Army in Transylvania; Paul von Hindenburg took his place. Petain had been replaced in April by Robert Nivelle, who by early December had managed to lead his forces in the recapture of much of their lost territory. From December 15 to 18, the French took 11,000 German prisoners; on December 18, Hindenburg finally called a stop to the German attacks after ten long months. With a German death toll of 143,000 (out of 337,000 total casualties) and a French one of 162,440 (out of 377,231), Verdun would come to signify, more than any other battle, the grinding, bloody nature of warfare on the Western Front during World War I.

1918 Allied troops capture Jericho

On the morning of February 21, 1918, combined Allied forces of British troops and the Australian mounted cavalry capture the city of Jericho in Palestine after a three-day battle with Turkish troops.

Commanded by British General Edmund Allenby, the Allied troops began the offensive on Tuesday, February 19, on the outskirts of Jerusalem. Despite battling adverse weather conditions and a determined enemy in the Turks, the Allies were able to move nearly 20 miles toward Jericho in just three days.

On the morning of February 21, it was apparent that the Turkish line had been broken, and the Allied forces entered the holy city of Jericho without much resistance at just after 8 a.m. Upon realizing they had lost control of the city, Turkish troops chose to retreat rather than fight. During the three-day battle, Allied troops captured 46 Turkish prisoners.

The capture of Jericho proved to be an important strategic victory for the Allies, who now controlled some of the most important roads in the region, including the main road to the coast and the mountain highway leading to Jerusalem, and had reached the northern end of the Dead Sea, the lowest point on earth at 1,290 feet below sea level.

XX corps was not so lucky. It had fought a determined rearguard action in the Forest of Augustow, but on 14 February the German XXI corps had been sent on a dangerous march to the east of the forest. By 18 February, despite attacks from both sides of its line of march, XXI corps had closed the last gap on the eastern side of the forest. The Russian XX corps was trapped. On 21 February the 30,000 survivors of XX corps surrendered to the Germans.

The Russians lost 200,000 men during the battle, 100,000 of them prisoners. German losses were comparatively light, but two weeks of fighting in the freezing cold and snow of East Prussia and Russia had exhausted them. The surrender of XX corps marked the end of the battle.

Post is going tomorrow, so I'm going to write now. Nothing to say, as usual. Newcombe is back in Cairo for a few days: he may be going back to the W.O. for a few days, though I shouldn't think so. He will probably be made a Colonel shortly. We are changing office tonight, so that everything is in a royal disorder. Each time we change we get more and more rooms: here is the Savoy Hotel, which is Headquarters at present, we now have 15 rooms, not counting little rooms. I have now got quite a decent room to myself, and have decorated it with a map of the Caucasus about 15 feet long (the largest map I have ever seen) one of Syria, about 12 feet high, and the beginnings of one on Egypt, bigger than either of these. It is rather amusing work publishing and drawing maps. We are up to l,000,000 now, actual sheets, (mostly Gallipoli) of a total of about 600 different maps. The Egyptian Government handed over its Survey Department to us - or rather Dowson, Director General of Surveys, handed it over to us, and the Government agreed - so that there are about 1,000 workmen and a very large plant (second only to Southampton) at our disposal. The cost has not been what one would expect: paper etc. about £28,000: and expenses of staff etc. about £75,000. Egypt pays the second, War Office the first. There is a very great deal in hand just now. I wish I could send Arnie some of them. However you got the Gallipoli, which was a very pretty map. I have a lovely little 500,000 of the Turkish Empire in hand just now. It will take about six months to do. Also an Arabia (two months) which will be an important thing. I wish there was some news to tell you: there is heaps as a matter of fact just now, but it is not for publication. We seem to be fixed for ever in Cairo: all efforts now are directed to organizing the office so that it continues after the War on its present scale. They will have to find a substitute for me! We have got a little man called Deedes in our office now: he is an ex-Turkish Gendarmerie instructor, captain in the English Army, and a very excellent man. I like him best of the bunch. I'm going to bed now.
N

Commander BELLAIRS asked the Prime Minister, in regard to the system and control of the arrangements for feeding the population of Belgium now occupied by the enemy, whether the Government are satisfied with them; whether he can state how much is contributed by the British Empire; and whether any discrimination is used in this relief to the enemy of his own obligations so as to prevent food being given to those who are working directly or indirectly through their labour in the interests of the enemy?

Lord ROBERT CECIL His Majesty's Government are satisfied with the manner in which the Relief Commission has carried on its work, and have exacted guarantees from the German authorities who might otherwise have taken advantage of the supplies. I cannot state the amount of the charitable contributions from private persons in the British Empire, but the exact figures can, I believe, be obtained from the British National Committee. The Government contribution is made by the Belgian Government out of the Allied loan to them and amounts to 1,000,000 a month. In regard to the last part of the question, His Majesty's Government have exacted a guarantee, as against the German authorities, that the Commission shall be free to distribute relief to any person irrespective of whether such person has refused remunerative work offered by the enemy, and I believe the Commission has at all times exerted the utmost vigilance to see that this principle is adhered to. If at any time it is violated. His Majesty's Government will certainly regard such violation as cutting at the root of the whole arrangement. In so far as remunerative work is accepted by a Belgian workman from the enemy such a workman will naturally no longer receive the relief given by the Commission to the destitute or semi-destitute, and he consequently only benefits by such parts of the Commission's imports as are spread over the whole population. In future all the Commission's imports, except flour, will probably be reserved exclusively for the destitute. I should add that the patriotism of the Belgian workmen has hitherto prevented any but a comparatively small number from working for the enemy, in spite of the inducements offered.

The revolution began with a lockout and strike at the Putilov works. On 21 February, the Putilov management locked out a section of their workers, provoking a strike. The workers demonstrated and other factories came out in their support. Scuffles and protests also took place outside bakers’ shops, when supplies ran out. The next day, 22 February (8 March in Western Europe) was International Working Class Women’s Day. Early in the morning thousands of women were on the streets. Textile workers spearheaded their ranks.

The 1914 Star is to be issued to all soldiers of the British and Indian forces, including civilian, medical practitioners, nurses and others employed with military hospital, who served in France or Belgium with the British units between the outbreak of war and midnight on November 22-23, 1914. It appears that at least 70 New Zealanders who were in Europe at the time qualified for the decoration. Their names are as follows:

EYES OF THE ARMY: The Life and Letters of World War I Aerial Observer Lt. Mortimer M. Lawrence

February 21, 1918, Somewhere in France

Dear Folks:-

Today I haven’t a thing to write. There hasn’t anything new happened since I wrote last, so this will be very short.

We have no trouble keeping busy around here, for there is always some little thing to do. Then there are lots of walks etc. to take. Our various duties are scattered out over the day so that there is little time in between for writing letters etc.

I hope by this time you have received at least one of the letters I have sent since landing on this side.

I am anxious to receive a letter from you written since you knew I had landed safely. My cable to you should have been received within 24 hours after we landed.

Some of the fellows have received mail from the States but practically all had been in the P.O. at Garden City or rather Hempstead before we left and was merely forwarded. Some of it was dated as far back as the last of November. Still a few letters, written since we left, have come through and I expect I will have some soon.

If Father does not receive the $40.00 I have alloted to him exactly on Mar. 1st it won’t be surprising, in fact he may not receive anything until April 1st but then he will get $80.00. But if nothing comes on April 1st write to the Depot Quartermaster at Washington, D.C. Also let me know and I’ll work from this end.

The young Count Anton Arco auf Valley had tried earlier that day, but the crowds on Promenadestrasse, the street leading between Bavaria's Foreign Ministry and Landtag, had blocked his line of sight. With the morning rush now abating, he felt more confident of success. Standing a little way from the Foreign Ministry doorway, he knew that it was now just a question of waiting...

Inside his offices within the Foreign Ministry, a bearded man in his fifties - a pince-nez carefully balanced on the end of his nose - put the finishing touches to a speech. Resembling a ruffled librarian, Kurt Eisner, the Premier of the Free Republic of Bavaria was preparing to hand over power; the speech he was working on was a resignation proclamation to be delivered in the Bavarian Landtag just after 10.00am that day.

Eisner made a farewell address to his colleagues and then dismissed his secretarial staff for the last time. With his two aides, Fredrich Fechenbach and Benno Merkle, and two guards, he prepared to set off to the Landtag.

Fechenbach voiced his concern for Eisner's safety. The Prime Minister was now so despised by the people of Munich that it would be dangerous, he said, for them to take the normal route. "They can only shoot me dead once," said Eisner, brushing Fechenbach's fears aside.

The two guards came out of the doorway first, followed by the other three men. Eisner walked in the middle. Turning on to Promenadestrasse, they passed the innocuous-looking young man without a second glance...

The moment Arco had been waiting for had arrived. He raced up behind the Prime Minister drew up his pistol and fired twice at point-blank range. The first shot obliterated Eisner's skull, killing him instantly. The second entered one of his lungs.

On 21 February 1917, the ship SS Mendi sank in the cold waters of the English Channel near the Isle of Wight, after being struck by another ship in an unfortunate naval accident. On board were more than 600 Black South African volunteer soldiers en route to France to assist in the Allied war effort during the First World War.

The soldiers, and their fellow White officers, having all assembled on deck of the badly listing ship and realising their imminent death because the portside lifeboats had been rendered unusable, began to sing and perform a traditional death dance. Legend has it that they bravely resigned themselves to their fate and continued to sing before the vessel plunged to the seabed.

Originally of Earby but latterly residing in Padiham, Lancs, Edmund was 38 years of age when he was posted as ‘missing believed killed' on 21 February 1917. His body was never recovered and his name is listed on the Thiepval memorial to the missing.

William, Prince of Wied (1876-1945), a well-connected German army officer, was selected by the great powers of Europe, with consent of the Albanians, to be mpret [ruler] of Albania and ascended the throne on 21 February 1914. Civil war soon made his position untenable and the coming of World War I broke down all foreign aid. A rebellion under Essad Pasha was successful, and, lacking support among the large powers, William was forced to retire on 3 September 1914, although he refused to abdicate.

Buffs Company is the QOR's new company authorized under the Land Forces Restructuring of the Reserves (LFRR). The growth of this company began two years ago as a recruit platoon within Victoria Company (Vics). Vics continues to have the responsibility to train recruits and the QOR has its quota filled with every course. Graduating recruits from Vics will expand Buffs from the 1 platoon that will move into Scarborough, to a full company over time. Vics also continues to feed 60th Company to ensure that we compensate for the normal attrition attributed to retirement, component transfer to the regular force and the few that come to realize that the reserve commitment is more than they can carry.

Alliance with The Buffs

According to QOR Regimental history, on 13 August 1910 QOR paraded with 633 men, marching towards Union Station to commence a voyage to Aldershot in the United Kingdom in order to participate in the autumn manoeuvres of 1910. Sir Henry Pellatt brought the Regiment to the U.K. under his command at his own expense. The troops arrived in Liverpool on 27 August 1910. On 02 September 1910 the battalion, in full marching order went on a 13 mile route march with The Buffs (East Kent) Regiment. It was soon noticed that the Buffs and QOR used the same Regimental, a tune known as "The Regimental Quick Step of the Buffs" composed for The Buffs by Handel. Sir Henry explained to the Buffs that permission had been granted the QOR by the Buffs to adopt the tune towards the end of 1882. Documentation was found in the Buffs archive.

Militia Order No. 85 of 21 February 1914 read as follows: "His Majesty The King has been graciously pleased to approve of the 2nd Regiment, Queen's Own Rifles of Canada, being made an Allied Regiment of The Buffs (East Kent Regiment)."

Things are quiet, a little shelling now and again, but not much. We lie very low when it is on, right under the bank or in a dugout. All the men have little fires in this and keep decently warm whilst they sleep, which they do in amazing positions. 'Make way' is the commonest remark as we go along the lines, with elbows rubbing the sides. It is impossible to keep really warm, one is either hot and fuggy or else dankly cold. It is not a very active kind of cold but is quite unpleasant. I have taken a photo or two which I hope to send home by someone going on leave.

You see in front of you a greyish clay bank to about two feet above your head, to your right and left about six men before a traverse stops your view. We have, I think, established a certain kind of ascendancy over the enemy lately and any half hearted attempts he has made at attack have been repulsed without difficulty. At night the parapets are improved and men show themselves freely.

The night I was in, we completed a line of trenches gaining connection with the French (we are the extreme right of the British position) digging quite openly above ground without casualties except one engineer hit in the thigh. This, mark you, within 150 yards of the enemy on only a darkish night.

The Royal Engineers are wonderful, they put up wire about 11.30 when the moon was quite bright, bang in front of a new sap trench, without loss. Amazing. The enemy though are chary of showing themselves and if they start fire they get a hottish reply. We buried a few of their dead who had been out for about three weeks, and who lay in the line of this new trench. There are 120 more about the place but we can't get to them.

This digging is ticklish work but losses are very small generally at it. However, it's all done now in the position from which advance is considered impossible, in face of a place known as the triangle on the railway held by the Germans which is impregnable. It will have to be turned elsewhere if it is ever to fall.

A city of south-central Poland west of Katowice. (...) In 1905, the Zabrze commune was formed by the former communes Alt-Zabrze, Klein-Zabrze and Dorotheendorf. The Zabrze commune was renamed Hindenburg in 1915 in honor of Generalfeldmarschall Paul von Hindenburg. The name change was approved by Emperor Wilhelm II on 21 February 1915. During the plebiscite held after World War I, 21,333 inhabitants (59%) of the Hindenburg commune voted to remain in Germany, while 14,873 (41%) voted for incorporation to Poland.

Instructions for the systematic preparation of gas warfare by the French, issued by the French War Ministry, dated February 21, 1915

Ministry of War, February 21, 1915

Remarks concerning shells with stupefying gases:

The so-called shells with stupefying gases that are being manufactured by our central factories contain a fluid which streams forth after the explosion, in the form of vapours that irritate the eyes, nose, and throat.

There are two kinds: hand grenades and cartridges.

Hand Grenades. The grenades have the form of an egg; their diameter in the middle is six centimetres, their height twelve centimetres, their weight 400 grams. They are intended for short distances, and have an appliance for throwing by hand. They are equipped with an inscription giving directions for use. They are lighted with a small bit of material for friction pasted on the directions, after which they must be thrown away. The explosion follows seven seconds after lighting. A small cover of brass and a top screwed on protect the lighted matter. Their purpose is to make untenable the surroundings of the place where they burst. Their effect is often considerably impaired by a strong rising wind.

Cartridges. The cartridges have a cylindrical form. Their diameter is twenty-eight millimetres, their height ten centimetres, their weight 200 grams. They are intended for use at longer distances than can be negotiated with the hand grenades. With an angle of twenty-five degrees at departure, they will carry 230 metres. They have central lighting facilities and are fired with ignition bullet guns. The powder lights a little internal ignition mass by means of which the cartridges are caused to explode five seconds after leaving the rifle. The cartridges have the same purpose as the hand grenades but because of their very small amount of fluid they must be fired in great numbers at the same time.

Precautionary measures to be observed in attacks on trenches into which shells with asphyxiating gases have been thrown:- The vapours spread by means of the shells with asphyxiating gases are not deadly, at least when small quantities are used and their effect is only momentary. The duration of the effect depends upon the atmospheric conditions.

It is advisable therefore to attack the trenches into which such hand grenades have been thrown and which the enemy has nevertheless not evacuated before the vapours are completely dissipated. The attacking troops, moreover, must wear protective goggles and in addition be instructed that the unpleasant sensations in nose and throat are not dangerous and involve no lasting disturbance. (...)

Reproduced below is German Army Chief of Staff Erich von Falkenhayn's account of the German offensive launched against French-held Verdun on 21 February 1916.

Often described as the greatest battle of the war, casualties on both sides were immense. Falkenhayn's stated intention was to "bleed France white" in the latter's defence of Verdun.

Such virtually proved to be the case - although the scale of German losses brought Falkenhayn much criticism. Indeed the failure to capture Verdun ultimately resulted in Falkenhayn's removal as Chief of Staff and Paul von Hindenburg's installation (along with Erich Ludendorff).

For the assault on Verdun the supply of ammunition considerably exceeded the quantity which all previous experience suggested as likely to be needed. Similarly, every demand for labour and equipment was complied with.

In order to divert the attention of the enemy from all these preparations, the other armies in the West were charged with the task of keeping him busy by small enterprises on their sectors.

In this they acquitted themselves in exemplary fashion. On the 9th of January the Third Army attacked at Maisons de Champagne, on the 12th of February at Ste. Marie a Py, and on the 13th of the same month at Tahure.

On the 28th and 29th of January the Second Army had a fine success at Frise, south of the Somme. The Sixth Army struck on the 26th of January at Neuville, on the 8th of February to the west of Vimy, and on the 21st of February east of Souchez.

Gaede's Army Detachment pushed forward into the French lines near Obersept on the 13th of February. Everywhere the appointed objectives were reached, and the enemy suffered heavy losses.

The relatively slight German losses sustained on these occasions were justified, for it is highly probable that these operations materially contributed to mask our plans. In return, it was only in the nature of things that larger operations other than the main attack already planned should be discountenanced.

When the Third Army inquired whether it was still to undertake a big attack on its sector, it was informed accordingly, and the following remarks were added in explanation of the plans to be followed in the Meuse sector:

"Our precise problem is how to inflict heavy damage on the enemy at critical points at relatively small cost to ourselves. But we must not overlook the fact that previous experience of mass attacks in this war offers little inducement to imitate them. It would almost seem as if the questions of command and supply in these attacks were insoluble."

On the day appointed for the opening of the attack the condition of the ground in the Meuse district, soaked with continuous rain, prevented any movement of the troops, while the poor visibility in the cloud-laden sky made artillery work impossible. Not till the middle of the month did the weather improve sufficiently to admit of the bombardment starting on the 21st of February.

The successful infantry attack on the following day was carried out with an irresistible impetus, and the enemy's first lines were simply overrun. Nor could the advanced fortifications, constructed in peace, stop the brave attackers, although these works were not much damaged by our artillery.

On February 25th the 24th (Brandenburg) Infantry Regiment stormed the Fort Douaumont, the strong and reputedly impregnable north-eastern pillar of the Verdun defence system.

Simultaneously the enemy gave way in the Orne valley as far as south of the Metz-Verdun road, so that the German front here also moved forward to the foot of the Heights of the Meuse.

From many signs it was clear that this powerful German thrust had not only shaken the whole enemy front in the West very severely, but that its effects had not been lost on the peoples and the Governments of the Entente.

However, the Headquarters Staffs of the Army Groups considered it necessary to stay the forward movement against the Heights. Violent - one may say desperate counter-attacks by troops collected in extreme haste from all parts of the front had begun. They were repulsed everywhere with very heavy loss to the enemy.

The situation might have changed, however, had we not brought up our artillery, which had been unable to follow fast enough over the still barely passable roads, and assured the supply of ammunition and food.

Meanwhile the enemy had with astonishing rapidity brought a number of powerful batteries of artillery into position behind the Marre ridge, on the western bank of the river. Their half-flanking effect made itself severely felt on our assault troops.

The discomfort caused by these guns had to be stopped. This could not possibly be effected from the right bank of the Meuse, for here we had our hands full in dealing with the enemy forces immediately confronting us.

The only means available - as had been foreseen and prepared for - was to push forward the German front on the left bank so far that its artillery could deal with the Franco-British guns on the Marre ridge more effectively than before. We now had troops available to carry out this necessary movement.

Apart from a weak attempt in Champagne, there had been no relief attacks by the enemy in any other sectors, and our observations showed that no preparations for any immediate attack of this sort were in hand. Indeed, it had become highly improbable.

The French had nearly got together the whole of their reserves from the rest of their front, and had quickly handed over to the English the sector near Arras, formerly held by them, in order to provide the wherewithal to hold their positions in the Meuse sector.

The English had been compelled, by taking over the Arras sector, to extend their line so much, that nothing on a big scale from this direction was to be apprehended. To be sure, the formation of Kitchener's conscript armies in England was proceeding vigorously. Thus it was to be anticipated that the forty to forty-two English divisions, whose presence on the Continent had been established, would be nearly doubled at no very distant date. Whether, and when, these new troops would become fit for use in an offensive was still, however, a matter of uncertainty.

In these circumstances the question that had to be considered by G.H.Q. was whether to intimate that the continuance of the operation on the Meuse would be abandoned, and a new enterprise started on another front.

This measure would have meant a complete departure from the views on which the attack north of Verdun was based. Nor was there any reason for doing so. We had hitherto achieved what we had set out to achieve, and there was every reason to hope we should do so again in the future.

As a matter of fact, that is what actually happened. No offensive elsewhere had particularly good prospects. The enemy still held their line in great strength. The English, for example, had from seven to eight men to every yard of their front.

Success was to be gained against positions so strongly held as these only by employing the artillery we had concentrated on the Meuse. Further, it would have meant a great loss of time, and the enemy would assuredly have taken advantage of this to transfer his reserves likewise. It was therefore decided to renounce the idea of changing the scene of operations.

The attack carried out on the 6th of March and in the succeeding weeks on the west bank succeeded to this extent, that the French were thrown out of their foremost lines with heavy casualties every time.

Owing to the peculiar confirmation of the country we could not use these successes to bring our artillery far enough forward, and consequently the preparatory work here had to be continued. Intense fighting lasted for the whole month of April on the western bank. Not till our occupation of the main portion of Hill 304, on the 7th of May, was there any momentary pause in our attack in this sector.

The conduct of the actions in the Meuse sector was at first directly in the hands of the H.Q. Staff of the Crown Prince's Army Group itself. But with the extension of operations some relief of the burden on this Staff became necessary. Accordingly, in March, while preserving its control, we put General von Mudra in command on the right bank, and on the left General von Gallwitz, whose command of the Eleventh Army in Macedonia was taken over by Lieutenant-General von Winckler.

As already stated, there had been a temporary cessation of our attack in the western sector; but it must not be assumed from this that things had become absolutely quiet there.

Here, as on the eastern bank, the fighting raged continuously and more fiercely than ever. The French saw to that with their practically incessant counter-attacks. The artillery battle never stopped.

The raids of the defenders were generally relieved by big thrusts carried out by forces far superior to those of the attackers. For example, a particularly resolute thrust was made on the 22nd and 23rd of May in the region of Douaumont, and for a time our hold on the armoured fort was in danger.

For our part, we usually confined ourselves to sending our opponents home with bloody pates, recovering from him such small patches of ground as he might have gained here and there, and, where necessary, effecting slight improvements in our positions.

Nevertheless, this fighting without visible or - for the man at the front - tangible result afforded the sternest test imaginable of the capabilities of the troops. With very few exceptions they stood the test most brilliantly.

The enemy nowhere secured any permanent advantages; nowhere could he free himself from the German pressure. On the other hand, the losses he sustained were very severe. They were carefully noted and compared with our own which, unhappily, were not light.

The result was that the comparison worked out at something like two and a half to one: that is to say, for two Germans put out of action five Frenchmen had to shed their blood. But deplorable as were the German sacrifices, they were certainly made in a most promising cause.

From 18 January to 21 February 1916, 151,828 Serbian soldiers and civilians were evacuated with Allied ships from the Albanian port of Valona to Corfu. The first port of disembarkation on Corfu was Gouvia (Guvino), six km north from the city of Corfu.

The sinking of the SS Mendi, requisitioned by the British government for use as a troopship during WWII , is a story that deserves to be far better known for several reasons, not least the enormity of the loss of life. That it is not is surely due to one of those reasons – the race of the majority of the victims.

During thick February fog the Mendi, steaming from Plymouth to Le Havre, was hit amidships by the SS Darro, a meat ship sailing to Argentina. It was before dawn, in thick fog, the Darro travelling too fast and not sounding her fog-horn. The Mendi was carrying more than 800 members of the South African Native Labour Corps to the war in France, having ferried them originally from Cape Town.

Almost severed in two the Mendi sank rapidly. Most of the black South Africans could not swim. Their Xhosa pastor Isaac Dhyoba calmed those on deck as they waited to die, and according to legend had them perform a death-dance.

In all 627 men perished, including 30 of the Mendi’s crew. The Darro’s captain made no attempt to rescue those in the water. He was later punished with suspension of his licence for 12 months.

On 21 February 1917, the ship SS Mendi sank in the cold waters of the English Channel near the Isle of Wight, after being struck by another
ship in an unfortunate naval accident. On board were more than 600 Black South African volunteer soldiers en route to France to assist
in the Allied war effort during the First World War.

The soldiers, and their fellow White officers, having all assembled on deck of the badly listing ship and realising their imminent death
because the portside lifeboats had been rendered unusable, began to sing and perform a traditional death dance. Legend has it that they
bravely resigned themselves to their fate and continued to sing before the vessel plunged to the seabed.

In honour of the fearless men of the SS Mendi, this Order is awarded for acts of bravery.

Fittingly, the central motif of the design of this Order is the oval shape of a traditional African shield, usually made from animal hide woven
into a rigid and durable armour and used for protection in close combat. The band, which renders the shape of the shield, is punctuated
with the spoor of the lion, representing vigilance, power and bravery, and symbolising South Africa’s efforts at protecting its borders and the
country. The band is criss-crossed with the tips and bases of a knobkierrie and a spear, traditional symbols of defence and honour.

The central image within the shield is an image of the SS Mendi sailing on the waters of the English Channel.
The depiction of the blue crane in flight above the SS Mendi symbolises the departing souls of the drowned soldiers. The feathers of the
blue crane were traditionally conferred to adorn brave warriors during the time of colonial wars.

The central image is sealed above by a green emerald which is surrounded on three sides by renditions of the bitter aloe, a hardy indigenous
South African plant used in traditional medicine. The three bitter aloes represent resilience and survival and also serve as symbolic
directional pointers, showing the way when rendering assistance to those in need during natural disasters.

The Order of the Mendi Decoration for Bravery award comprises three elements: a neck badge (a gold, silver or bronze medallion on a neck
band); a miniature (a miniature gold, silver or bronze medallion for wearing as a brooch or on the breast pocket) and a lapel rosette (also
in gold, silver or bronze).

Recipients of this award are entitled to indicate that they have been invested with the relevant category of the Order by the use of the following
post-nominal letters:

• OMBG for recipients of the Order of the Mendi for Bravery (gold)
• OMBS for recipients of the Order of the Mendi for Bravery (silver)
• OMBB for recipients of the Order of the Mendi for Bravery
(bronze).

Awards of the Order of the Mendi Decoration for Bravery are made to South Africans who have performed acts of bravery. The act of bravery
may have occurred anywhere in the world. This order is awarded in gold for exceptional acts of bravery in which awardees would have
placed their lives in great danger or may have lost their lives in their efforts to save lives or property, in silver, for extraordinary acts of bravery
through which recipients’ lives were placed in great danger while saving or trying to rescue persons or property, and in bronze for outstanding
acts of bravery through which their lives were endangered while saving or trying to rescue persons or property.

Early in January 1917, the Battalion moved forward by stages to the forward area and on January 6th, 1917, took over the front line near GUEDECOURT. The trenches were in a very bad state and even in the communication trenches the slush was up to one's knees. With the advent of bitterly cold weather, sickness, especially trench feet, increased rapidly. The Battalion was in this sector either in the front line or support for six weeks and during that time casualties included:

On February 15th, 1917, it took over Stormy Trench which had been captured recently by the 13th Battalion. On February 21st, 1917 the Battalion carried out a brilliant little "stunt". A small attacking party under Captain Howden and Lieutenants Cornish and Murray, without the aid of artillery, captured 300 yards of Stormy Trench, killed and wounded twice its strength and captured 29 prisoners. The next night in another attack under Captain Howden and Lieutenants Ferguson and Muir, a further 150 yards of Stormy Trench and 32 prisoners were captured. During these assaults, Sgt SCOTT (subsequently promoted to Lieutenant), was awarded a Distinguished Conduct Medal, one of Great Britain's highest military honours, second only to the Victoria Cross.

Lieut Reynold SCOTT - DCM - Was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal for exceptional bravery and devotion to duty in leading a team of bombers in an attack on the enemy's trenches at GUEDDECOURT on the night of 22/23 February 1917. The assault was delivered under cover of Stokes Gun Barrage. Watching the lift of the barrage Sgt Scott dashed forward with his team and successfully bombed the Germans out. He then assisted to organise the rifle grenadiers and was of great assistance in keeping the Germans at a distance until the block was erected and the position consolidated. Sgt Scott also displayed great daring in the preliminary reconnaisance and the work done in this respect proved to be of great value in the subsequent attack.

For his work on these two nights, Captain Howden was awarded a Bar to his already earned Military Cross:

Major Harold HOWDEN - Was awarded the Bar to the Military cross for gallantry and devotion to duty in re-organising and carrying out two attacks on an enemy's strong point and trenches at Gueudecourt on the morning of 21 February 1917 and night of 22 February 1917. Owing to the abnormal wet state of the trenches these attacks were carried out under great difficulty and the success of both attacks was largely due to Capt. Howden's organising ability and attention to detail. As the result of both operations, nearly 500 yards of enemy's trenches were captured and held, and 60 prisoners taken.ers taken.

Other Officers involved in carrying out this 'stunt' were also recognised with the award of a Military Cross:

Capt. Edmund CORNISH - Was awarded the Military cross for conspicuous gallantry in leading an attacking party on enemy's strong point and trenches at Gueudecourt on the morning of 21 February 1917. Lieut Cornish was in charge of an attacking party. On the signal to attack he led his men with splendid dash and determination over enemy's wire and bombed the enemy out of its strong point. On this being attained he continued along the enemy's trench at the head of his men and bombed his way for a distance of 250 yards, killing and wounding many of the enemy and capturing 29 prisoners. Although seriously wounded he remained in the captured trench until the same was consolidated. For three nights prior to this attack, Lt Cornish had personally reconnoitred the strong point and NO MANS LAND in the vicinity immediate, and the information he gained (under very dangerous conditions) was largely instrumental to the success of the attack.

2nd Lt. Thomas CROOKS - Was awarded the Military cross for gallantry and devotion to duty at GUEUDECOURT on the morning of 21 February 1917 and the night of 23/24 February 1917 during the attacks on enemy strong points and trenches. CSM Crooks was in charge of the carrying parties, carrying grenades and rifle grenades to the attacking troops. By his coolness under heavy fire, combined with organisation and method he enabled a plentiful supply of grenades to be kept up, notwithstanding the fact that conditions were abnormal as most of the carrying had to be done through mud, knee deep. On both occasions he controlled his parties through NO MANS LAND and the work done by this W.O. at a critical time was magnificent

Lt Robert MURRAY - Was awarded the Military cross for conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty in assisting to take and hold enemy's stronghold and trenches at GUEUDECOURT on the morning of 21 February 1917. Lt Murray led his men with great dash and determination, and after bombing up and capturing the enemy's trench he took charge and superintended the building of our block in same, this was done under enemy bomb fire. At daylight, under cover of our rifle grenade, he, on two separate occasions moved our block further along the enemy's trench and thus gained not only more trench, but a more advantageous position for the block. Although another Officer was sent down to relieve him next morning he refused to leave his post until he was quite satisfied that same was safe and secure. On three successive nights prior to the attack, he personally reconnoitred the enemy's position and wire and the information he gained was of great assistance to the attacking party. The coolness and utter disregard of danger showed by this Officer was largely instrumental in making the attack a success

Capt Leon FERGUSON - Was awarded the Military cross for gallantry and devotion to duty at GUEUDECOURT on the night of 22/23 February 1917 during an attack on the enemy's trenches. Lt Ferguson was in charge of the attacking party and led his men with great dash and determination, taking and holding 120 yards of enemy trenches, capturing 30 prisoners and inflicting numerous casualties on the enemy. This officer by his utter disregard of danger and initiative rendered valuable service in the consolidation of the captured trench - a very difficult operation owing to the abnormal state (thigh deep in mud), and the darkness of the night

These two very successful attacks showed that the morale of the Battalion was high, despite the gruelling experiences in the last few months.

Sir HENRY CRAIK asked the Secretary of State for the Home Department whether his attention has been called to the case of a brothel keeper who was recently convicted at Bow Street and sentenced to pay a fine of £20 and eight guineas costs, although it was stated in evidence that the takings of one week were at the rate of £6,200 a year and that large sums were paid to cabmen for introducing visitors; and whether he proposes to take any action in relation to such cases?

Sir G. CAVE My attention has been called to this case, which is one of the cases to which I referred in moving the Second Reading of the Criminal Law Amendment Bill now before the House. The fine imposed was the maximum allowed under the existing law, but it is proposed by the Bill to raise the maximum fine.

Mr. W. THORNE Does the right hon. Gentleman think that men who belong to the ordinary working classes go to any such houses?

Lord Francis Bertie, the British Ambassador in Paris, wrote to the British government about the situation in France on 21st February 1917.

Briand, though not popular in the Chamber, and though his conduct of affairs is much criticized there, manages to keep himself in office, partly by his Parliamentary skill and his persuasive eloquence, and owing to the non-existence of a suitable successor, and no combination of parties constituting a majority in the Chamber being able to agree on the choice of substitute. Clemenceau, who not very long since was thought of, has from his continual but unreasoning attacks in his newspaper on M. Briand and the authorities generally, and his recent defeat in the Senate, rendered himself impossible. Poincare made advances to him for a reconciliation but was unsuccessful.

This week we had three fatal casualties; one man was smashed by the propeller, the other two crashed from the air! Yesterday, a fourth came ploughing with a loud bang into the roof of the workshop. Had been flying too low, caught on a telephone pole, bounced on the roof of the factory, turned a somersault, and collapsed upside down in a heap of wreckage.

Munich, 21 February, 1919: The young Count Anton Arco auf Valley had tried earlier that day, but the crowds on Promenadestrasse, the street leading between Bavaria's Foreign Ministry and Landtag, had blocked his line of sight. With the morning rush now abating, he felt more confident of success. Standing a little way from the Foreign Ministry doorway, he knew that it was now just a question of waiting...

Inside his offices within the Foreign Ministry, a bearded man in his fifties - a pince-nez carefully balanced on the end of his nose - put the finishing touches to a speech. Resembling a ruffled librarian, Kurt Eisner, the Premier of the Free Republic of Bavaria was preparing to hand over power; the speech he was working on was a resignation proclamation to be delivered in the Bavarian Landtag just after 10.00am that day.

Eisner made a farewell address to his colleagues and then dismissed his secretarial staff for the last time. With his two aides, Fredrich Fechenbach and Benno Merkle, and two guards, he prepared to set off to the Landtag.

Fechenbach voiced his concern for Eisner's safety. The Prime Minister was now so despised by the people of Munich that it would be dangerous, he said, for them to take the normal route. "They can only shoot me dead once," said Eisner, brushing Fechenbach's fears aside.

The two guards came out of the doorway first, followed by the other three men. Eisner walked in the middle. Turning on to Promenadestrasse, they passed the innocuous-looking young man without a second glance...

The moment Arco had been waiting for had arrived. He raced up behind the Prime Minister drew up his pistol and fired twice at point-blank range. The first shot obliterated Eisner's skull, killing him instantly. The second entered one of his lungs.

The deed complete Arco turned to run - he had only managed a few paces when a bullet fired by one of the guards sent him sprawling to the ground. As he lay writhing on the pavement, four more shots were blasted into him.

Angry crowds rushed to the scene and began baying for the assassin's blood. Fechenbach somehow managed to have the assassin dragged to the Foreign Ministry. From here Arco was taken to hospital, where his life was saved.

As soon as Eisner's mangled body was removed, workers and radical soldiers crowded around the assassination spot. While he was alive, these people had vented their disgust with the Prime Minister; now, in death, they declared him a working-class hero. Weeping, a number of women dabbed their handkerchiefs into Eisner's drying blood.

Astute commentators realised that the pent-up rage of defeat, starvation, racial hatred and class animosity were about to be unleashed. The stage was set for Bavaria's once proud capital to become the hotbed of revolution, the home of Red Terror and the scene of the Freikorps' most dreadful crimes.

Before The Suffering

The Kingdom of Bavaria existed as a sovereign entity long before the notion of a unified Germany was even mooted in intellectual circles. Until their downfall, Bavaria's ruling dynasty was the Wittelsbach family - for just over 750 years this family had governed, built palaces and theatres, and courted some of Europe's greatest artists and philosophers.

Bavaria had been conducting its own diplomacy with foreign powers for hundreds of years. Its army had a long and proud history, as did many other Bavarian State institutions. Most Bavarians, while content to be members of the German Reich, were wary of Prussia and its dominant position.

In simple terms, most Bavarians saw their northerly Protestant neighbours as slightly arrogant, somewhat bombastic and certainly dull. Catholic Bavaria (over 70% of the state's population looked to Rome for its religious guidance), on the other hand, was seen by its citizens as sensibly conservative, light-hearted and easy-going.

When the new German Reich was created and Wilhelm I declared Kaiser in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles in 1871, the Bavarians had already managed to gain a number of key concessions - called 'reserved rights' - in return for their joining the new Empire. Bavaria kept her own diplomatic corps and her Army remained independent and only fell under the Kaiser's control once war was declared.

Bavaria also retained control over her lines of communication and her transport infrastructure. The reserved rights helped maintain a sense of 'difference' that was still evident even by 1914, although the unease Bavaria's population felt about Prussian dominance had faded as the considerable benefits of unification became apparent.

The Golden Age

Bavaria before the War had entered an unprecedented period of growth, both demographically and economically. Munich's population of 230,000 in 1880 had exploded to 596,000 by 1910. Factories were built and tramlines were installed. The very beginnings of what we today would recognise as modern urban and suburban zones were created and expanded upon during this time.

The Luitpold Regency era - named after the benevolent and much-loved Prince Regent Luitpold who ruled from 1886-1912 on behalf of Ludwig II's successor, the mad Otto - became something of a 'golden age'.

Luitpold died in 1912 at the extremely venerable age of 91. His oldest son, Ludwig, aged a sprightly 67, succeeded him.

Unfortunately, Ludwig was not much of a regal character. Rather than concerning himself with pomp and circumstance - a thing most Bavarians loved about their Royal family - Ludwig was passionate about technology, science and agriculture.

He shied away from visiting the theatre and was rarely seen at large-scale public ceremonies. He was also a usurper.

Upon becoming regent he announced his intention to become king. He managed to do this primarily by securing the support of the centralist Catholic parties and Otto promptly lost his title. While most Munich citizens had no major love for the mad king, they thought Ludwig's decision badly judged at best, or at worst, an example straight from the pages of Machievelli's The Prince.

But despite the controversy surrounding Ludwig's ascension, by 1913 many in Germany and Europe believed that while the industrious the North and West led the country economically, it was the South (with Munich at its heart) that led the country culturally.

The Seeds Of Conflict

However, to paint Munich in the decades leading up to the First World War as an enlightened city with little to no social tensions other than Royal intrigues would be considerably off the mark.

Life for thousands of Munich's citizens during the Luitpold Regency, and the first years of Ludwig III's reign, was neither joyful nor prosperous - it was a time of grinding poverty. During this period, Bavaria's first city was undergoing an industrial revolution and experiencing a great deal of social upheaval and social deprivation.

The population explosion was brought about because country folk (their jobs more and more displaced by mechanisation) and poor East European immigrants began flooding into Munich looking for work and housing. And while there was work, it was mostly low-paid and menial.

Those who earned higher amounts were either undercut and forced into accepting lower pay, or were simply laid off. With no welfare state to call on, many unfortunate families found themselves permanently living on the brink of destitution.

The influx of people also created a serious housing problem. Tenement blocks were built to battle the space shortage. 'Flats' were usually one or two room affairs, with children forced to sleep on the floor. Slum barons compounded the misery and misfortune by periodically raising the rents, forcing families out onto the streets.

Those living on the breadline (many were forced into prostitution to make ends meet) began to look for a scapegoat for their woes. The Jewish community despite numbering a mere 8,700 by the end of the 19th Century became the target of choice.

Beerhall Politics

From folk singers to established newspapers, from university professors to street side orators - all delivered diatribes against the Jews and in a less media savvy age the message was one that thousands, even in the middle and upper classes, accepted at face value.

The anti-Semitic message went down particularly well in the boisterous beerhalls. These famous drinking 'palaces' served as a place to debate and, once the arguments were made and more beer had been drunk, a place to fight using beer steins as a weapons.

With so many tensions, it comes as no surprise that socialism and, to an extent Marxism, developed (although the class conflict was diluted to some extent because of the rabid anti-Semitism). As the factories and working conditions became worse, the power of these nascent political forces grew.

The largest socialist party, the SPD, had made great headway in the years leading up to WWI, with a burgeoning membership. At a national level, by 1914 they had become Germany's largest party - although this guaranteed nothing in terms of real 'clout', as power was firmly in the hands of the Kaiser and the army.

In Bavaria as a whole, the largest party was the centre power of the Catholic Party. With the state still very much a rural one, there was little to no chance that the socialists who dominated Munich's politics (their strong Bohemian element also made them more radical than their Berlin counterparts) could ever obtain a democratic mandate in the near future.

Only a terrible, earth-shattering blow to Germany's hierarchy and society would be enough to force change.

Towards The Brink

In the heady days of summer 1914, when war was about to be declared, most in Munich were enthralled by the vision of a short, but titanic struggle that would culminate in Germany obtaining European supremacy and taking its rightful 'place in the sun'.

With many historical and cultural ties to Hapsburg Austria, Bavaria was also supportive of their southern neighbour's desire to punish Serbia and her natural ally Russia. Bavaria's well-documented dislike of the 'easterners' meant most people in Munich thought that a bloody nose for the Slavs was long overdue.

'Russians' - usually unsuspecting east Europeans - were promptly set upon and beaten up. For good measure the crowds also destroyed shops suspected of being controlled by the French or the British, and beat up anyone thought to come from, or sympathise with, the Allied nations.

Once declared, Germany, including Bavaria, welcomed the war: it seemed that for the first time in its splintered history the German people had united to fight a common cause under one leadership. A new national spirit - the Volksgemeinshaft - was felt most deeply in the ranks of the Kaiser's army.

Perhaps Ernst Jünger in his war memoirs Storm of Steel got the closest in capturing this fledgling spirit of unity in words. He wrote: "We were enraptured by war. We had set out in a rain of flowers, in a drunken atmosphere of blood and roses. Surely the war had to supply us with what we wanted; the great, the overwhelming, the hallowed experience."

In the trenches and billets, men from all parts of the country and from all sections of the class spectrum mingled together and worked together in a way that would had been unimaginable in normal times. It was also a factor that explains much of the ex-soldier's fury towards the post-war administrations in Munich who played the separatist card so willingly.

But this was in the future, for now the men marched through Munich to the front and the city cheered.

The Line Wavers

At the close of 1914, Germany had much to feel proud about. Russia's armies had received a savaging at the hands of Hindenburg and Ludendorff. On the Western Front, the vast majority of Germans believed that the French and the British had only succeeded in bringing about a temporary stalemate.

Once winter was over, most in Germany believed that its main campaign in 1915 would either tip the war in the West to her considerable favour, or, if fortunate enough, win the war outright. While the casualty ratio had given many a shock, almost all Germans remained stoical - the struggle would be soon won and those who had fallen honoured.

When no clear-cut victory materialised in 1915 (all that was obtained seemed to be mounting casualty lists), acts of dissension began to materialise, especially in Munich. In the early war years, however, the disobedience was relatively minor - visiting a city bar or an expensive restaurant, or (if the censor passed it) a play that was deemed inappropriate by the conservative press were examples of this. In Bavaria there was also a growing feeling that the state was shouldering more than its far share of sacrifice in men and material.

There were also fissures starting to show in the business world. Munich's developing industrial base was time and again over-looked when large armament contracts were handed out by the national government. It favoured the industrial north and the Ruhr, which meant that Munich was losing out on vital material and money. Small businesses, starved of the necessary resources struggled to stay afloat, while many others simply folded.

The middle classes began to blame Bavaria's ruling elite and by 1917 the anger had grown to such an extent that Crown Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria lodged a complaint with Berlin. Talking of the middle classes who were finding their livelihoods under threat Rupprecht declared: "The members of this class, who were previously very monarchically minded, are now in part more anti-monarchical than the Social Democrats because they blame the government for their misfortune."

His comments were extremely prescient - when the time came this large demographic portion of Munich's population were among the happiest to see the backs of the Wittelsbachs.

Lebanon Boy on the Rhine - Mr. and Mrs. S. S. Howard, now of Jefferson, have just received their first letter from their son Sidney since he went over seas, and in the letter he informs them that he has quite recovered from his wounds and that he was in the fighting of the Argonne Forest for 21 days. He was transferred to Company D., 126 Infantry of the Third Army, 32nd Division and is now in the army of occupation, located in the little town of Gladbach on the river Rhine in Germany.

Brings Home German Dog - Lieutenant Frank C. Hart, of the medical corps of the army, while here last week visiting at the home of his father-in-law, C. F. Watters and other relatives, narrated many interesting incidents of his army service. He was 14 days crossing as he went over the first of last August, and 12 days on his returning January of this year. In going over they went many miles out of the route. There were 14 vessels in the convoy guarded by one battleship and one submarine chaser. In case of an attack by a sub the vessels scattered in different directions. They were attacked once on this voyage and his vessel traveled alone for 24 hours. He brought back a number of souvenirs from the battlefront, one being a dog owned by a German officer. He refused $200 for the dog when he reached the United States.

Carroll Whinnery, a son of Mr. and Mrs. D. A. Whinnery, of South Lebanon, was discharged at Camp Lewis last week. He enlisted in April and sailed for France in July. He went into training at Bordeaux in the field artillery where he remained until the signing of the armistice. They were to have gone to the front in a week's time and he very much regrets that he did not get to see some of the fighting in the front lines.

Sailor Boy Home from Atlantic Coast - H. A. Buhl, son of W. D. Buhl, the star route mail carrier between Lebanon and Lacomb, arrived home Saturday night from Camp Lewis where he was discharged from the naval service. He enlisted in November 1917 and after three weeks training at Mare Island, California, he was sent east and went to sea on a cruiser. For the last year he has been on the Atlantic ocean, most of the time between this county and England and France. He was on one scouting trip to South American waters. He reports that while his health is good, he contributed forty pounds of flesh to the navy, in that he is forty pounds lighter than when he enlisted.

The Negroes of the world in Pan-African Congress assembled at Paris February 19, 20, 21, 1919, demand, in the interest of justice and humanity and for strenghtening the forces of civilisation, that immediate steps be taken to develop the 200[,]000[,]000 of Negroes and Negroids; to this end, they propose:

A.---That the allied and associated Powers establish a code of laws "for the international protection of the natives of Africa," similar to the proposed international code for Labor.
B.---That the League of Nations establish a permanent Bureau charged with the special duty of "overseeing the application of these laws to the political, social and economic welfare of the natives."
The Negroes of the world demand that hereafter the natives of Africa and the Peoples of African descent be "governed according to the following principles."

1.---The Land: The land and its natural resources shall be held in trust for the natives and at all times they shall have effective ownership of as much land as they can profitably develop.
2.---Capital: The investment of capital and granting of concessions shall be so regulated as to prevent the exploitation of the natives and the exhaustion of the natural wealth of the country. Concessions shall always be limited in time and subject to State control. The growing social needs of the natives must be regarded and the profits taxed for the social and material benefit of the natives.
3.---Labor: Slavery and corporal punishment shall be abolished and forced labor except in punishment for crime; and the general conditions of labor shall be prescribed and regulated by the State.
4.---Education: It shall be the right of every native child to learn to read and write his own language, and the language of the trustee nation, at public expense, and to be given technical instruction in some branch of industry. The State shall also educate as large a number of natives as possible in higher technical and cultural training and maintain a corps of native teachers.
5.---Med[i]cine and Hygiene: It shall be recognized that human existence in the tropics calls for special safeguards and a scientific system of public hygiene. The State shall be responsible for medical care and sanitary conditions without discouraging collective and individual initiative. A service created by the State shall provide physicians and hospitals, and shall spread the rules of hygiene by written and spoken word. As fast as possible the State will establish a native medical staff.
6.---The State: The natives of Africa must have the right to participate in the government as fast as their development permits in conformity with the principle that the government exists for the natives, and not the natives for the government. They shall at once be allowed to participate in local and tribal government according to ancient usage, and this participation shall gradually extend, as education and experience proceeds, to the higher offices of State, to the end that, in time, Africa be ruled by consent of the Africans.
7.---Culture and Religion: No particular religion shall be imposed and no particular form of human culture. There shall be liberty of conscience. The uplift of the natives shall take into consideration their present condition and shall allow the utmost scope to racial genius, social inheritance and individual bent so long as these are not contrary to the best established principles of civilisation.
8.---Civilized Negroes: Wherever persons of African descent are civilized and able to meet the tests of surrounding culture, they shall be accorded the same rights as their fellow citizens; they shall not be denied on account of race or color a voice in their own government, justice before the courts and economic and social equality according to ability and desert.
9.---The League of Nations: Greater security of life and property shall be guaranteed the natives; international labor legislation shall cover the native workers as well as whites; they shall have equitable representation in all the international institutions of the League of Nations, and the participation of the blacks themselves in every domain of indeavour shall be encouraged in accordance with the declared object of article 19 of the League of Nations, to wit: "The well being and the development of these people constitute a sacred mission of civilisation and it is proper in establishing the League of Nations to incorporate therein pledges for the accomplishment of this mission."
Whenever it is proven that African natives are not receiving just treatment at the hands of any State or that any State deliberately excludes its civilized citizens or subjects of Negro descent from its body politic and cultural, it shall be the duty of the League of Nations to bring the matter to the attention of the civilized World.

On 21 February 1919 Captain Edgar J. McCloughry wrote a review of his experiences in France whilst serving with No. 4 Squadron AFC. This review, in the form of a thirteen page letter, covered the period from June-September 1918 and was written in response to a request from the Officer in Command of the Australian War Records Section. It is rare to come across a document such as this; there are only a handful held amongst the approximately one hundred Australian Flying Corps Private Record Collections stored in the Australian War Memorial’s Research Centre. I have reproduced it below at it was written in 1919 by Captain McCloughry.

Before receiving orders to report over-seas I was a Flight Commander with No. 6 Aus. Training Squad, where incidentally I trained many pilots who afterwards became part of the famous 4 Squad. I also should state that I had previous service in France with 23 Squad R.F.C. I reported for duty with 4 Squad on the 3/6/18 the squadron being at Clairmaires Aerodrome about 7 miles from St Omer; by a remarkable coincidence my brother Major W.A. McCloughry D.S.O., M.C., D.F.C. was in Command; I had always for personal reasons tried to avoid having my brother as C.O., and even after reporting I applied to be transferred to 2 Squad; fate has its own way, probably for the best. I arrived at the aerodrome just in time for mess 8 p.m. and my first impressions of the squad were really great and I think inspired me wonderfully.

A very important fact worth mentioning is that 74 Squad R.A.F. was on the same aerodrome commanded by Major Caldwell M.C., D.F.C. with the wonderful then Capt. Late Major Mannock, D.S.O., M.C., D.F.C.; the latter played a great part in the success of 4 Squad, there was not a pilot in 4 Squadron who did not look up to Mannock, and his many lectures to my Squadron helped them greatly. I had known Mick (i.e. Mannock) before and my success was greatly due to his help.

To go back to my first impression, I could not help noticing the wonderful spirit of all from the senior down to the mechanics. I here must mention that, out of the score or more squadrons I had been with, no mechanics stood out like 4 Squad A.F.C.; in my flight never once was there a shortage of serviceable machines which is indeed a record.

Next day I was posted to C flight one that had a name for being unlucky; on meeting the pilots of the flight I found that 7 out of the 10 were R.A.F. leaving only 3 A.F.C.; I must say though, that they were a fine lot and followed their leaders through any tight corner. My C.O. took me out on my first day and showed me round the lines, for they had changed greatly since my last time out; but luckily the ground the Bosche had I knew well from my days in the engineers. Our section was from Ypres to Nieppe Forest and at that time a fairly lively front, though with a shortage of Hun aircraft. My first few weeks in the squad we used to patrol the line as a squad or two flights, one flight seldom going out at a time. Capt. Cobby, D.S.O., D.F.C., used to lead “A” Flight, Captain Malley, M.C., “B” and myself “C”, each one taking our turn to be leading flight.

Although we had a break of wonderful weather for two weeks, and we did two two hour patrols each day, we seldom saw a Hun, and could never get close to one, in fact, nearly a month had gone without the squad getting a single Hun; it was not for the want of trying, all the leaders were as keen as mustard. 74 Squadron were also the same: Mannock used to hunt the skies with his flight for hours. Often I used to strafe for having to go out in large formations, knowing well we should frighten away any stray Hun; the C.O. saw my point but the wing would not have it.

My star pilots at the time were Lieut. Watson, D.F.C., the late Lieut. Martin and Lieut. Nelson; the former being a great friend of Cobby’s, I used to allow him to work with Cobby. Lieut. Martin used to be my partner, although it was only for a short time. But Lieut. Nelson there is no doubt was a wonderful fellow, although I did not understand him at first. He used to complain of not being able to fly high and would always drop out of the formation when we went anything above 7 000 feet which we usually did at the time. I will refer to the un-written deeds of Nelson later.

When I say weeks passed without there being a Hun in the sky, that is not quite true; for my own part, I was certain there were some – a few two-seaters working low down, etc., but of course it was impossible with a large formation to get to them.

Occasionally a day would be set apart for the squad to do interruption work; the wireless section would send through as soon as a Hun two-seater started working and a couple of pilots would leave the ground within 3 minutes of the message. But the Huns had been caught before and it was very difficult.

One day, after racking my brains for some new idea, I got permission, when the formation was over the Hun balloon lines, to dive down onto a balloon. It was “A” and “C” Flight’s turn. I was leading with “C” Flight and we had arranged for myself and Lt. Martin to dive on the balloons whilst the remainder of “C” Flight and “A” were to stay up and protect us two.

I crossed the line at about 10,000 feet and no sooner had I got over, than I felt without being able to see, that Huns were about. A few minutes later, I was almost taken by surprise by 3 cheeky Huns who dived past “A” Flight and on to the rear of my formation. I at once turned but they did not wait, one of the horrible characteristics of a camel being, as I will describe later, that it is unable to catch any other machine with the exception of the Fokker triplane on the level. I flew on a little and then sighted some more Huns but they were all above us, so I turned back to the lines and started to climb; when reaching 15000 feet, I came back again but soon ran into Huns again above us. “A” Flight had gone off to climb, but for some reason did not join up straightaway.

At one time we were ten miles over with 15 Huns about 3000 feet above us. I did the only thing possible – turned and waited for them; but luckily, they would not come down to us. Finding scores of Huns above me who would not come down, I tried to draw them by losing height myself, but nothing happened. Towards the end of the patrol, I was so fed up that I lost height to about 7000 feet over the balloon lines and then gave the signal for Martin and myself to dive. I ground my teeth and went straight on to the balloon and then fired about 200 rounds from about 200 yds and the balloon went up in flames. Looking round, I saw the one Martin tackled, smoking. I then suddenly wondered why no “Archy” was firing at us, but soon found the reason: 17 huns were coming down at us and already the remainder of my Flight mixed up with them. There was an awful scrap for a few minutes. I had managed to take a Hun off someone’s tail, when I saw Martin going down with a Hun on his tail. I followed, but on looking round, saw a Hun on mine, so turned and faced him, then, by a climbing turn, managed to get on his tail and after firing about 200 rounds, from almost on top of him, saw, not my first victory, but my first with the A.F.C. I then tried to follow Martin down, but it was too late, he was out of sight. The remaining Huns vanished almost as quickly as they came; so getting in formation again, we flew home to learn that poor Martin had been killed: but he had got his man and they had crashed 200 yards apart, Martin just on our side.

My first Hun broke the ice, for many Huns soon followed. It was really wonderful to see the enthusiasm inspired in the pilots, almost everyone was out for blood. The next victory fell to Lieutenant Watson, by a balloon a few days later, followed by many others, in fact Watson used to make a hobby of balloons. He was not satisfied by getting only the balloon, but used to annoy the Bosche in his parachute and on one occasion severed the Hun from his parachute.

Although the pilots were keen, in the mess they were always sky-larking and enjoying themselves; there is no doubt our mess was well known by many other units. The C.O. used almost daily to send a tender up near the line to bring back some guests for dinner, and there is little need to say they were treated well. We were known to the 1st Aus. Division who were then in the section by almost all. The mechanics were the same, and I would like to say the C.O. used to arrange for concert parties to give entertainments, and altogether, there was not a happier squadron. When there was no flying or work for the pilots or men they were not kept hanging round, but given transport to go off and enjoy themselves. I would also like to mention here that one of the best liked officers in the Squadron, to whom much of the success is due, was Lieutenant Bayer, the gunnery officer; not only did he know his work thoroughly, but there was no one more conscientious.

It was really half my battle, having faith in my guns – not once did a Hun get away by my guns failing, and of course, although a lot depends on the pilot, there were very few complaints indeed from the guns. Apart from all this, he kept the mess going, which also was a very big factor and one could not wish for a better mess.

About the 24th June rumours began to spread that the squadron was to move but as Clairmaires was one of the oldest aerodromes in France and very unhealthy and low, most were glad of the news and welcomed it, especially on getting particulars of the new aerodrome.

On the 25th June we heard that 2 Squadron A.F.C. had moved up from down South and were on an aerodrome the other side of St Omer; it was a filthy day and an awful wind blowing, but I started off in my old bus to try and find them. I landed quite half a dozen times, nearly writing my machine off on each occasion before I found them, but I got the glad news of the two squadrons to be on the same aerodrome.On the day before our move 29.6.18., the C.O.’s leave fell due and Capt. Malley took temporary command; he was loved by all and everyone helped him as much as possible in the moving. We left for the new aerodrome at Reclingham by flights, the whole of the 74th Squadron turning out to see us off, and I could not help feeling then that most of my experience was due to 74 and Mannock.

Arriving at Reclingham, everything was as we expected to find it, just the hangar standing and nothing else; but No 2 Australian Squadron had just landed before us and we started to, setting out this aerodrome. I soon found that we had come to a brand-new Brigade and a new Wing, and as they had had so little experience, they allowed our squadron to do much as we pleased at first.

This was my great opportunity, and I did not delay in putting my idea of small formation into practice. I myself led the way, going out several times with Lieut. Jones-Evans and we met several times with success. We used to fly to the lines together (our new section being from Nieppe Forrest to La Basse), cross over and come down quite low to 3000 ft. We soon found that this method was very successful in finding Hun two-seaters. On days when there were no enemy aircraft about, we often used to come down to 500 ft and strafe Huns, guns, transport etc., I soon found it was quite safe to come down to these low altitudes and that it only wanted a first trial and one gained wonderful confidence, besides getting real sport out of it; one could see one’s direct results which with Bosche horse transport was often very amusing.

I then took my whole Flight over the line at low altitudes and the pilots soon got confidence; in fact, in a few days, the whole squadron did nothing else but annoy the hun on the ground. Cobby, Watson and Nelson shone and carried out wonderful feats low down. Nelson used daily to take a newspaper and drop it from a few feet into the front line, and there is no doubt that it was he who was referred to in the Hun intelligence, as the pilot who used to fly low and continually annoy their infantry. On one occasion I came across Nelson playing round with a Hun two-seater and wondered why he did not shoot. I afterwards found out he had used all his ammunition on trench strafing: indeed this was often the case with him and he often used to come back four times in one patrol for more ammunition. The thing that worried me, and I think most pilots, more than anything was “Archy”. There is no doubt these were very good and often used to get our planes, and the ground machine guns, too, became very good. It was chiefly because of these and that the infantry told me of Huns often being about before dawn, that decided me to try the dawn stunt

Jones-Evans and I used to take off about half an hour before dawn and fly over Hun land at about 7000 feet, throttle down and wait until it was just light enough to pick out objects on the ground, then dive down and strafe them for all we knew; our great favourite was a train when we could spot one.

The whole squadron soon took up these tactics and the victories officially credited to the Squadron show their huge success.

An order came through that all the R.A.F. were to leave to join some R.A.F squadron I raised an awful strafe and after much trouble, managed to get a promise that I could keep Jones-Evans.

The Bosche made great improvements in his balloon defences, which made it very difficult for us to get near them at all; but I would not be beaten, so I planned with Jones-Evans for an attack.

We first reconnoitred by day and located the ground position of a few balloons, then we took off before dawn and flew well over the balloon lines; as soon as we could distinguish, we dived down on our targets and we were each successful in firing our balloons on the ground with no resistance.

About this time, Lieutenant Taplin, D.F.C. and Lieut. Lockley began to shine out and they did wonderful work. The former did not know what fear was.

On a trip up to the infantry in the line, they told me of a couple of Hun two-seaters who used to worry them. Just at dusk, when our machines had gone home, Jones-Evans, Lieut. Youdale (another pilot coming out) and I arranged a trip over the place in question and we waited out into dusk. Sure enough we saw the Bosche two-seater coming out. He was soon taken by surprise and crashed to the ground.

Our social life at Reclingham was just as jolly as at our old aerodrome, we had quite a good squadron concert party, together with No 2 Squadron also an occasional cinema and the R.A.F. band. To prove our ability to entertain, the R.A.F. band gave a concert at every aerodrome in France and were then given one more night, and asked to choose the aerodrome – they picked 4 Aus. Squadron.

One morning when Jones-Evans and I were out together, we were separated by clouds and failed to pick one another up again. Unfortunately, Jones-Evans ran across two Huns and although he managed to get some effective shots in, he was himself wounded. Two days later, I was out just before dusk and got into a scrap with a Fokker Biplane, and although I succeeded in crashing the Hun, he managed to get a bullet at me and wounded my right leg. It was not serious, the bullet going straight through and missing the bone; I managed to fly back to the aerodrome and the doctor after much argument, packed me off to a C.C.S., but luckily with the C.O’s help I managed to get permission to remain at the C.C.S. and not be evacuated. After a couple of weeks I could get around on crutches and I went back to the Squadron. The C.O. would not allow me to fly though, but sent me off on leave.

I flew over on leave with Major Murray Jones, M.C., D.F.C., of 2 Aus. Squadron in an old French Sopwith two-seater, which had come into our possession by quite unofficial means, and was the great joy-ride bus known as “Sophy”

I arrived back from leave on the night Cobby got his D.S.O., one only had to be present that night to see how popular he was and indeed it was well earned. For my part, I seemed at first to be at a loss without Jones-Evans, but Youdale soon got to know the ropes and we went off together.

One day, as a change, we arranged to strafe a Hun aerodrome. We took off before dawn and flew over to the aerodrome at Enneteria in the dark and waited until we could see and dived down finding the mechanics just getting the machines out of the hangars. I poured about 200 shots into the machines and fired two successfully. On the 24th September, 1918, Youdale and I were out on the dawn show, but were separated by the clouds and mist. I went on over Lille and spotting a train, dived down and bombed it, securing a hit in the rear. I later on ran across seven Fokker Biplanes between myself and the line. Knowing I was in for it, I went straight at them, destroying one, but I was myself hit and I remember little after that, except landing near St Venent.

I would just like to say before ending that although some pilots were never very successful in getting victories, some were indeed the stoutest of fellows. I refer chiefly to Lieut Heller who was one of the keenest and best of pilots.

I find I have omitted Captain King, D.F.C. usually known as “Bo”. He was one of the blood-thirstiest of pilots and always desired battles, but there again his successes are proof of his work.

One word on the “Camel”: there was not a pilot in the squadron who would not argue to the end for a Camel. Although slow, she could get round anything, also one could not run away from anything, which rather aimed for success. The whole time I myself did not have one engine failure which gave me wonderful confidence and also shows the wonderful work of No. 4 Squadron’s mechanics.

Captain McCloughry’s Private Record Collection is held in the Australian War Memorial’s Research Centre at 1DRL/0426.

I registered in this Camp on 21st February 1919. I live in hut 15 in sailing Lines, M.D.2.
I am a re-patriated prisoner of war.
The situation in this camp as I understand it was this: - There were the usual mumerings of soldiers, there were discomforts of various sorts, many men were broke and couldn't buy cigarettes or soap, but we were all looking forward to get away home and all these things were suffered with the hope in view of something better to come in the shape of sailing for home. Then came the cancellation of sailings - then came the news that the 3rd Division was going home first - that they were the fighting division of the Canadians - this was the climax. On the day before the riot it was on everyone’s' lips - it was a general feeling - every man I met was talking the same thing.
I do not think it was organised, but once the thing was started others joined in and it turned into a demonstration about the sailings being cancelled and it became a protest designed to reach the attention of the highest authorities.
The sailings were the real cause - the want of pay was secondary. In my hut I don't think there was five shillings among the 30 men. One man had not received pay since 5th Feb. I had not received pay myself since 8th February, but personally I have no complaint about pay. I have drawn $300 since coming back from Germany. I have still some $600 coming to me. I knew I could have drawn pay at any time.
I think if the men had been told about the sailings, why they were postponed or cancelled there would have been no trouble. The first explanation given us was by Gen. Turner. Now it is posted on boards. - things are improved. Had the men known the true situation they would have thought different...

On today's date, 21st February, in 1916, the battle of Verdun began. At 0715 on a cold, snowy day, an exceptionally heavy bombardment began to fall on French position to the north-east of the town.

One of the first German attacks fell on a brigade of chasseurs à pied commanded by Colonel Emile Driant, in positions in the Bois des Caures. On the night of the 21st, Driant was doing the rounds of his battered positions. He reached the position known as Grand'Garde no.2, where Lieutenant Auguste Robin (the CO of 6th Company, 59th Chasseurs) was in command, and where the Germans were on two sides of the French position. '"What can I do here, with my eighty men?" asked Robin. The Colonel gave him a long look, as if he was weighing the lieutenant's soul and wondering how much he could explain to such a young officer. "My poor Robin, the orders are to stay here ..." Robin understood and nodded.'

On the evening of the 24th, 'coming back in ones and twos to fall in at Vacherauville - from 56th Battalion, Captain Vincent, wounded twice, who would later find a glorious death on another field, Captain Hamel, Captain Berveiller, Lieutenant Raux, Sous-Lieutenant Grasset with about sixty chasseurs. From the 59th, Lieutenant Simon, Sous-Lieutenants Leroy and Malavault with fifty chasseurs. That's all that was left of 1,200 men.'

Within days of the German attack, General Philippe Pétain was given the command of the sector. One of his first acts was to secure his logistics by establishing a road and rail route through which he could move reinforcements and supplies in, whilst sending casualties and resting soldiers out. The rapid rotation of divisions in and out kept the French forces relatively fresh, and better able to withstand the successive German assaults. By the time the German offensive finally wound down in July, some 70% of the French Army had served at Verdun in one capacity or another.

It was not a battle of grand attacks, of the kind seen in pre-war manoeuvres, but soon degenerated into intensive small scale assaults. Behind the French front lines as the first German attack began, all was confusion. Corporal Marquot and his comrades of 156th Infantry were on the march: 'We left Charmes, marched for a day and a night to arrive at Côte du Poivre at dawn on the 25th. They said, "We don't know where the enemy is, just go forward until you meet him, then dig in."'

Verdun, thought Jacques Meyer, a lieutenant in 329th Infantry, 'was most often a war of abandoned men, a few men around a leader, a junior officer, an NCO, even a simple soldier whom circumstances had shown capable of leadership. Sometimes it was a single man reduced to leading himself. Handfuls of men or individuals, forced to act, to take the initiative of defence, or withdrawal. Failures of nerve - and there were some - generally occurred in bigger units, which were not always the most hardened but were the most shocked by the unexpectedness of the disaster. Decisive and courageous acts were mainly individual, leaving most of them unknown.'

Meyer concluded, 'When a man went up there, he felt a dim fear. When he left he no longer was afraid of being afraid. When he left for good, he carried a sense of pride away in his memory.' But later wrote, 'War, old chap, you know very well what it was like, but when we are dead, who will know anything about it? The war, old chap, it was our hidden, buried youth.'

The place of Verdun in French history ensures that it should play a central place in the centenary celebrations. The Michelin guide to the battlefield is still available here. The local tourist office suggests places to see for families with young children here, and a guided bicycle tour here. A Pass Lorraine gives you reduced price entry into a number of key sites, including the Mémoiral de Verdun museum at Fleury._________________Met hart en ziel
De enige echte

The war affected all aspects of life. On 21st February 1918 a beer shortage was reported.

“The latest thing is an ale queue. It is stated that there was a shortage of the beverage at Butler’s Hill the other day so they came into the town to get a pint or more. The people in that quarter are alleged to have an awful thirst; perhaps due to their being so near to the sewage farm.”